


Watching

by TreacleTart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Hogwarts, Mental Health Issues, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacleTart/pseuds/TreacleTart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took all of his restraint to remain hidden in the shadows, watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This story is about stalking and does contain some violent imagery. If these subjects affect you strongly, please do not read any farther.

  
Beautiful Banner by Katharos @ TDA!

He saw her coming while she was still a mile down the hallway. Her silky black hair floating just above the crowd stood out immediately. She was in the center of a group of Ravenclaws, laughing easily as if nothing in the world were wrong. Her brilliant smile was so blindingly magnetic that it hurt not to sprint towards her. It took all of his restraint to remain hidden in the shadows, watching.

Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the hall, pausing to look at her surroundings. A shiver passed through her body and for a second worry lines creased her normally smooth brow. The hint of a frown tugged the edges of her mouth down ever so slightly. One of her friends turned to look at her, realizing that she had paused.

“Is something wrong?” the friend asked, fake concern peppering her voice.

“No. No. I’m alright. Just a chill is all,” he heard her respond as the gaggle of girls passed him. He knew that she felt the intensity of his gaze, but yet, she still hadn’t seen him, watching.

Thoughts of her began to occupy his mind far too often. The rest of his life seemed to pale in comparison to her radiant beauty. Even when he was surrounded by darkness, the light that radiated off of her guided him. He found himself attuned to her every movement, analyzing what it meant. He noticed that when he was around, she pulled her shoulders back straighter and laughed a little louder. Of course, she was laughing with her friends, but he knew deep down she was laughing and smiling for him.

He began counting the days between each class that they shared. Soon he knew her entire class schedule and who she chose to spend her free time with. Although, she never spoke to him directly, he felt certain that she enjoyed his attention, but she was busy and so was he, always watching.

As his love for her grew stronger, he found himself taking frequent walks to the Quidditch pitch for the chance that he might get a glimpse of her practicing. His breathe would often catch in his throat as she ripped through the sky with her cloak flapping carelessly behind her. Never in his life had he seen anyone so graceful. His heart almost stopped in his chest as she performed aerial acrobatics for his specific viewing pleasure.

Although he admired her flying ability, he never actually entered the stands, preferring to stay hidden in the trees surrounding it, silently watching.

He told no one of his love, knowing that his friends would wonder about his strange fascination with a girl of questionable blood status. Worse yet would be his parent’s reactions if they were to find out that he had even considered fancying a half-blood. They would punish him for his foolish lust. They’d make him pay for ever allowing her name to cross his mind. Regardless, he kept watching.

Fantasies of her and him began to creep into his mind. At night, dreams of her kept him company. During the day, thoughts of her kept him from his class work. His social life began to suffer too as he constantly tracked her through the halls. Little details, like the fact that her ears wiggled when she laughed or that her right foot was slightly bigger than the left one endeared her to him all the more. Even though he knew she felt his love, she continued to feign obliviousness to his interest.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and he was frustrated by the lack of change. He had been watching for what felt like an eternity and although she purposefully toyed with his emotions, she had yet to actually speak with him. In fact, it seemed that instead of noticing him, she had begun to notice someone else, perhaps in an effort to make him jealous.

While he hid in the shadows, she’d taken to Hufflepuff’s golden boy. As her blue eyed prince strode through the hallways, she trailed after him, simpering like a lost puppy dog. Molten hot fascination turned to bitter, black, burned resentment and it festered inside of him poisoning every pure intention he’d ever had until all that was left was the rotting carcass of his love.

Rage filled him, scorching his insides. Dreams of the two of them were haunted by her calling “Cedric! Cedric!” as she did daily in the corridors. Every one of her once perfect actions suddenly became irritating. Even her flying, which he had once loved to watch, had lost its sheen and beauty. Her moves now looked clumsy and awkward like a child learning to fly. She had robbed him of her perfection and he despised her for it. But still he stood in the shadows, full of anger, always watching.

One hot, sticky Saturday afternoon, after watching the two of them snogging in the hallways, his fury boiled over. She had become an infected boil that needed lancing and he intended to deal with it.

It took several days to catch her when she was alone, but finally his persistence paid off. She made the simple mistake of walking back to her common room alone one night after Quidditch practice and so he snagged his opportunity.

He had been stalking her silently since the moment that she left her team locker room. He stayed about a hundred yards behind her at all times, but kept watching her with an intensity that could’ve lit kindling on fire. She entered the castle and he paused momentarily before following. He knew her routine by heart, having walked it so many times.

He pursued her through the once bustling corridors of the first floor, heading towards her common room. His own silent steps were muffled as the empty halls echoed with each step she took. She appeared to be consumed by her thoughts. Quickly, he sped up his pace, focusing on getting to her as fast as he could without making a sound.

Before the action could be registered, he wrapped his hand through her black hair and dragged her into a long forgotten classroom. He snaked a hand around her throat, covering her mouth tightly to muffle her screams until he could cast a muffliato charm on the door.

Once the room was secured, he let her go, shoving her into a row full of desks. A smile crossed his face as she slammed into them, nearly toppling to the floor. He held his wand out in front of him, keeping it trained on her miniscule body and he thought to himself that he could break her easily with his hands. He wouldn’t even need magic.

“What do you have to say for yourself, you bloody tramp?!” he screamed. Veins popped from his neck and his eyes bulged as she backed away in fear. 

“What do you want with me?” she asked, trying to hide the waiver in her voice.

He watched in amusement as she scanned the room, looking desperately for a way to escape.

“Don’t even bother trying to leave me. If you do, you’ll be dead before you know what’s happened.” The words left his mouth as easily as if he’d just made a quip about the weather.

“What do you want with me?” she repeated.

“You know what I want. You’ve been leading me on for too long. I’m sick of it.”

“Leading you on? How could I be leading you on? I’ve never even spoken to you before!” she said in the tiniest of voices.

“You have so. Walking through the hallways, tossing your hair from side to side right in front of me. Smiling and laughing. Wiggling your eyebrows at me. Even the way you dress. You do it because you know how I like you to look. Showing off for me on that broomstick of yours. I’ve been watching you for quite awhile. I know you’ve felt it and I know you’ve been playing with my feelings,” he rambled as he ran his fingers manically through his hair, tugging at their roots.

He watched in amusement as she tried not to let the quiver in her hands spread through her body. He could tell she was fighting to hold still, fighting not to betray her fear to him, but it was too obvious to hide and he took an immense amount of satisfaction in that.

“Look,” she started once more, in the kindest voice she could muster, “What you’re saying is insane. I’m with Cedric. I’ve been with him for ages. I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that, but I promise that I never meant to hurt you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Never meant to hurt me. As if a foul, loathsome blood traitor like you could hurt me. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Okay,” she said as calmly as she could, “Then tell me why I’m here.”

“You’re here because you betrayed me. You convinced me that you were different, special even, and then you turned out to be just like the rest of them. I thought we understood each other. The way you looked at me. I was so sure that you understood me. What does Diggory have that I don’t?”

“Well, for starters, he’s never kidnapped me or hurt me.”

Something snapped inside of him.

“What did you say to me?” he roared, swiping one of his large, meaty hands at a desk and flipping it over easily as if it weighed nothing. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

A surge of power coursed through him as she cowered in the corner, putting her hands in front of her to shield her face. He laughed deep in his belly knowing that he could snap each of her arms with ease if he wanted.

“Get up!”

Fearful whimpering was the only answer he received. Reaching out, he grabbed her lustrous mane of black hair once more and used it to yank her to her feet. His gigantic hands wrapped around her neck, his nails digging into her flesh. He could feel the muscles and tendons moving in her neck as she struggled under the weight of his hands. Lifting her off of the ground, he pressed her back against the wall, tightening his grip around her airway.

“Goyle….please,” he heard her whisper as the last bit of fight drained from her body. Seconds later, she was as limp and lifeless as a rag doll in his hands.

Releasing his grip, he allowed her to crash to the floor. The festering wound that had grown in his soul felt cleansed and the fury spent. He sank down next to her lifeless body, exhausted from his exertion.

He was found the next morning, sitting peacefully next to her bruised and broken body, watching.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi There,
> 
> This story was originally posted on HPFF for The Unusual Pairing Challenge which I won 1st place in. I was assigned the pair of Cho Chang and Gregory Goyle. I admit that I’d struggled with how to pair them, toying with several different ideas. In the end, this is what I decided on. 
> 
> This whole style is quite a bit out of the normal for me and although horror is one of my favorite categories to read, I’ve had very little experience writing it. That being said, I’d love to know what you thought. Feel free to leave some feedback if you’ve got a moment.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> ~Kaitlin/TreacleTart


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